


Puppy (Play) Love

by Star_Prince



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Anal Sex, Fanfiction, I Really Did Wrote About That, I'm Sorry But Not Really at All Again, Kink Negotiation, Leash and Collar, M/M, Master/Pet, Oral Sex, Pocket, Raccoon Peen, Roquill - Freeform, Rough Oral Sex, Size Difference, Smut, beastiality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 06:09:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2640992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Prince/pseuds/Star_Prince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After hearing out Rocket's request to try something new out in the bedroom, Peter's left tied up and howling out with pleasure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puppy (Play) Love

“You want me to wear _what_ again?”

Rocket could only roll his eyes as the Terran stared incredulously across from him, eyebrows knit together in an intense look of concentration. He had expected this question, anticipated it really, but the confused puppy-dog stare that he got from one Peter Quill made the whole situation just a bit more exasperating, and ironic considering the topic.

“Y’heard me Pete. I want ya bare…well, I dunno, maybe inna pair of those nice clingy briefs of yours, we’ll see…and a collar. A nice thick one, leather too, so it won’t hurt when I tug ya around on th’ lead.” Finally saying those words out loud, Rocket couldn’t help but grin which looked, in a word, wrong. That many sharp teeth exposed all at once always gave the impression of some predatory creature cornering in on its prey, and the unnatural way that the corners of the raccoon’s muzzle turned up just added in an element of cruelness to that unsettling smirk.

At last seeming to register the words that went along with the smirk, the top and bottom of Quill’s face seemed to tug in opposite directions; as his brows lifted skyward, he couldn’t help but let his jaw drop some as he babbled out.

“Lead?” was one of the few discernable words that were emitted while Rocket nodded slowly to the other, beaming proudly over the fact that he was able to get this kind of reaction out of Peter.

Now, Peter Quill (a.k.a. Star-Lord, a.k.a. Leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy, a.k.a. Rocket’s dumbass boyfriend-thing) was no stranger to kink. Over the past couple of decades he had laid with many partners, both humanoid and alien, that had introduced him to a wide variety of kinks and fetishes that ranged from simple strip teases to heavy BDSM. And as time wore on, the retired Ravager seemed to deviate further away from vanilla spectrum of sex.

And that could very well explain why he was so into Rocket. Besides his charming personality and quick wit, the raccoon came built in with sharp parts that left marks as they wandered over Quill’s flesh, raising up reddened welts that streaked over the male’s skin like a Jackson Pollock. And the added fact that he looked like a Bambi character gone commando was oddly hot.

While the aforementioned point had left Rocket a little hesitant to start a relationship with his fellow Guardian, Quill’s persistence over the two becoming an item eventually made him realize that the man’s feelings had to run deeper than mere physicality; after all, three months was a long time to keep a joke running, especially when said joke involved the perpetrator not getting any despite the numerous offers from potential partners in clubs and bars. It was Peter’s incessant flirting and earnest attempts at a date-night that somehow proved to the raccoon that this all wasn’t jut a prank, that for some odd reason Peter Quill was attracted to him and, even stranger, he was attracted to the human as well.

Really, it was a perfect relationship, or as perfect as a raccoon/half-human couple could get. Each half of the pair was devotedly attracted to the other half; their personalities, though sometimes manic or abrasive, blended well together; and the sex was **great**.

Or, that’s what Quill had thought up until this moment. Scowling towards the raccoon, the man’s brows furrowed together once again as the other’s words really sank in, the man grunting and crossing his arms over his chest in an apparent pout as thoughts of past sexual shortcomings filled his mind.

“Is this because of that one time I accidentally pulled out and blew on your face? I KNEW you were still angry about it!” he mumbled, eyes flicking away from Rocket’s as memories of _that time_ returned.

Rocket actually snorted at that, eyes once again rolling as he pointed an accusatory digit towards the Terran. “First off, you _know_ how hard it is to get that gunk outta my fur. Cause I’ve told ya about it. Multiple times. Second off, nah, s’not about that. This isn’t a punishment or some kinda payback. It’s…”

 Rocket paused to try and find the right words to get his fellow Guardian on board with him, an awkward silence ringing through the air for a few moments before that rough voice resumed where it left off. “S’just this is somethin’ ya might wanna try y’know? You’ve told me about a lotta stuff that you’ve done in the past, that you liked, and from the stuff I’ve looked up, this seems like somethin’ we’d _both_ like alright? So, unless ya don’t trust me or ya really don’ have that open of a mind…“

As the raccoon trailed off and turned to hide the smirk that was slowly warping his countenance from playful to downright malicious, Peter was only able to grimace and go on the defensive. His guarded stance quickly opened up as the other played him like a fiddle, arms uncrossing and lifting in front of him so open hands could wave the comment off.

“No! No, no no! C’mon Rocket I didn’t mean it like that, just…well I dunno! I know you like the smell and feel of leather but I didn’t expect, well, _collar_ stuff…I figured my coat was enough for that. I guess if you’re interested in whatever this is I can at least hear ya out. No harm in that right,” Peter hurriedly rushed out, frantic to try and explain his unwillingness as mere confusion. It was immediately after Rocket had turned around to flash that predatory grin of his that Peter stopped prattling on, the corners of his mouth twisting downward into a deep frown as he understood that he was being had.

Before he could protest or take any words back, two surprisingly strong paws were pushing at his legs, forcing Peter to topple back onto his bed. The squeaking of bed springs intermixed with the grunting sigh that left the male’s lips resonated in the cabin, dominating the airspace as the man was forced into position by the procyon, and soon enough, the raccoon was dominating Quill’s personal space as well.

Stepping up to the other and planting his feet on either side of the man’s hips, Rocket pressed up against the Terran and cooed out, “C’mon Quill, take a load off, I’ve got a lil’ gift for ya and I’m positive you’ll like it. Just in case ya don’t though, well I want you t’know, we can stop immediately and I’ll do that thing with my tongue to make up for your pain ‘n sufferin’.” And as if to demonstrate his earnestness, the procyon’s long tongue flicked out and slid over the top row of his teeth.

That enticing image, along with the promise of reimbursement, was enough to calm the man a bit. It really wasn’t that big of a deal to hear Rocket out was it? This seemed like a win-win to Peter, so despite the tentative edge that crept into his voice, the man was able to mumble out a half-hearted, “Well?”

That was all the provocation Rocket needed to continue apparently.

“Oh, you’re up for it? Goooood, good Quill. Now, I’m gonna get your treat…but ya gotta close your eyes, alright? So go on, the faster ya shut ‘em the faster ya get your reward!” trilled the raccoon, his voice somewhere between sing-song and deep purring.

Rocket patted roughly along the other’s flushing cheeks before he hopped off the bed and strode over towards the back of the room, never once looking back to check if his instructions were being followed. In fact, the thought didn’t even cross Rocket’s mind until he heard the wolf-whistle from behind him, and with that single noise, the slender hips stopped their rocking motion and the bushy ringed tail stiffened up then twitched in agitation.

“Oh Pete, I _know_ you weren’t just whistlin’ out at me as I walked away. I know this cause your eyes are closed aren’t they?” he began, his voice tinged with irritation. “Because, if they _weren’t_ closed then…well, this treat I got planned might have to turn to a punishment. And we wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

Peter’s reaction was instantaneous, his eyes snapping shut and lips pursing together in an attempt to pass off the flirtatious whistle as something more innocent. Or believable really. Scooping up from the second tone, the Terran continued to blow out and continue his tune, whistling out ‘Hooked on a Feeling’ starting from his own personal favorite lyrics:

All the good love, when we’re all alone.

Keep it up boy, yeah you turn me on.

 

He wasn’t fooling anybody with that act, but rather than call the Star-Dork out on his disobedience, Rocket let it slide for now. He was much too busy tugging out a nondescript brown paper bag from his personal effects, taking care not to rustle it too much or let its contents clink together. Rocket had already decided what the man’s punishment was going to be for that outburst before, and lucky for him, Peter was playing the role of his own distraction.

“ _YEAH I’M HOOKED ON A FEELIN’!_ ” the Terran sang out suddenly, head bobbing in place as he truly lost himself in the moment, letting the ‘70s tune overtake him, obliviously humming out as the raccoon stalked forward.

If Peter hadn’t been so enthusiastic about maintaining his false innocence, he might have heard the soft ‘ **thump** ’ of that bag hitting the ground; or the tell-tale jingle of metal scraping against metal; or the soft chittering chuckle that was growing louder as Rocket approached. And really, by the time he realized that the springs on his bed were once again compressing, it was too late…there was already a firm grip clamped around his neck, constricting his breathing until his lungs felt a dull ache from the lack of fresh oxygen.

Peter didn’t fight back against _this_ feeling however, choosing to arch his back as pleasure began to seep into the mild burn in his chest, accepting the sensation those wonderfully rough hands that were gripping onto his throat brought.

It was all too easy for Rocket. A firm hand here, a bit of pressure there, and Quill was basically mewling with pleasure. In only seconds, the sultry tones of Blue Swede had devolved into rough panting and, judging by the raccoon’s throaty chuckle and deep purring hums, it was quite a welcome change.

Loosening his grip on the other’s neck slightly, the second of those rough, nimble hands began to slowly pet along the Terran’s stubbled cheeks, eliciting sharp gasps and content moans from each party as one was pet and the other’s sensitive hands were stimulated. It was only when Peter felt both of the other’s hands stroking and petting along his face while that pressure remained constant around his throat that he dared to even open his eyes.

“S’called ‘Pet Play’,” Rocket explained to the Terran as those vivid blue eyes swept down to stare at the fat band of leather that encircled his neck, the raccoon only continuing on as those eyes wavered and once again returned to him. “S’basically all the stuff we like rolled up into one messed up kink: discipline ‘n praise, roughness, obedience…and that’s not even gettin’ into the different accessories! Besides addin’ in bondage elements they got leads ‘n collars, mitts, tails. Hell, we could even order a sheath for ya if you wanted, I know how much you like mine Pete.”

That comment deserved some witty retort from the Terran, or at the very least a scoff and eye rolling. Unfortunately, Peter was in no position to do any of those things because he was too fucking turned on to think of things beyond ‘Yes, yes yes yes yes we have to try this now’ and ‘Why the hell am I even turned on by this, god I have issues’. So near silence was the dominating sound in the man’s room for a while, broken only by the Terran’s own heavy breathing and the subtle whines of shifting bed springs.

Silence, however, was not what Rocket wanted to hear.

Giving the lead that connected to Quill’s new collar a sharp tug, the procyon smirked as the larger male yelped out and lurched forward, that devious grin of his growing ever wider as he watched a bit of color form in the Terran’s cheeks. Rocket’s tongue slid out and slowly over his muzzle, showcasing the sharp fangs that would undoubtedly be making Peter squirm in a little while, before finally growling out a curt sentence.

“Well? What’s the verdict Pete…should we get this started? C’mon, speak!” Rocket barked out, quickly growing delighted as he watched the temporarily brain-dead man jump and perk to attention.

The pressure of smooth leather pushing into his throat, the feeling of Rocket grinding up against his front, the snarled words of command; all of these things had Peter Quill thinking with the completely wrong head, and the Terran hastily submitted to the raccoon’s words. Nodding and groaning out an affirmative, Peter quickly pressed his face right up to Rocket’s. Lips mashed together in an awkward-fitting kiss, but it seemed that what the pair lacked in appropriately fitting features they made up for with passion.

Tongues danced with one another, wrestling for control until at last, Rocket’s long, nimble length overpowered Quill’s clumsy tongue, pinning it down as he surged forward. The raccoon’s hips ground forward, forcing an obvious bulge to press hard into the other’s stomach, dragging vigorously back and forth over the ridges and valleys of the human’s muscles until he could take it no more.

“Flark…excited huh boy? C’mon then, get outta those clothes, not gonna need ‘em for this next part,” Rocket said, beaming as the other gave in desperately like the overexcited puppy he was just meant to be.

He had expected Quill to be hesitant but never guessed the only convincing he would need to play this part would be a collar, a wagging tongue, and a few prettied up words. Everything was going much better than expected, and now that he had the half-human in this kind of state, they could only get better…well, at least for him.

The two parted, grabbing and ripping at their clothes so they could throw the pesky things to the ground, tossing them away with reckless abandon so the pair could once again reunite in a combination of fur and flesh. Once again, Quill moved in to kiss Rocket, only to be met with a rough palm pushing his face away, which of course prompted the question “Mnnph, the hell Rocke-eaaah!”

The other’s name was interrupted with a sharp gasp as the procyon firmly slapped the other’s cheek, his voice low and chastising as he rumbled “Uh-uhn, what’d I say was happenin’ Pete? _Pet_ play…and lookin’ at who has the leash on, I’d say you’d be the pet. Isn’t that right?”

Peter fell silent as the other began to speak, brows furrowing as he did his best to concentrate while completely preoccupied with the feeling of his erect length pressing up into those briefs Rocket had been talking about earlier (orange, the same color as Rocket’s jumpsuit, worn on the other’s insistence that it let ‘interested parties’ known he was already taken). A slow nod finally followed the question, lips opening up once more to speak, only to let out a stifled groan as that hand smacked his cheek once more. Hips eagerly rolled forward as the man kneeled in front of the raccoon, frowning both because he didn’t understand what he had done wrong and because he was pretty sure a few drops of pre had stained the orange bulge he was showing off a darker color than the rest of his briefs.

“ **And** as a pet, you wouldn’t be really speakin’ like I am now would ya? Noooo, unless you’re some kinda bird, but ya don’ got wings neither, huh boy? Seems t’me that you’ll be letting ‘master’ know what ya want through simpler means now,” cooed Rocket, the raccoon staring intensely at his partner as he let what he said sink in. It was obvious to tell when it had, for that look of confused hurt slowly began to dissolve into an expression of hesitant acceptance.

This wasn’t just some sort of leash-and-collar bondage play to spice things up; this was an entirely different animal altogether. It was new and different, but most of all it was _hot_. Quill’s entire body felt like it was on fire as the raccoon leered at him, small charges of arousal shooting up through his back to the pleasure center of his brain, making him amenable and oh so eager to continue out.

“W-wroouf…” Quill barked tentatively. It wasn’t the fact that the action was humiliating that led to that bit of hesitation, rather, it was because the Terran wasn’t sure exactly what he should sound like. Humans and the pets that they happened to own shared inherently disparate vocal cords, and while a dog may go ‘woof’, ‘bark’, and ‘bow-wow’, if a human were to do the same the sounds would come off as childish or corny.

Quill must have done something right though, for as soon as the stuttered bark left his mouth, Rocket was moaning and beaming at the Terran, petting over his cheeks while he rumbled “Oh yeah! Now _there’s_ m’good boy! And that’s you, isn’t it Peter? Ain’t it boy? Don’t ya think you deserve a treat for this?” Rough slaps or pats had turned once again into rubbing, the procyon happily praising the other as he accepted his role as pet.

Peter nodded and whined out eagerly, pressing insistently into those rough hands and hoping to hell that ‘treat’ meant getting rid of his underwear and into something a bit more comfortable…something like Rocket maybe.

His treat was bittersweet really. While the reward had definitely involved Rocket, it wasn’t exactly the area that Peter had been daydreaming about. Thoughts of tugging up that ringed tail and making his ‘master’ moan and arch beneath him quickly disappeared as the raccoon tugged hard onto the lead that was now again in his hand, causing Peter to stumble forward and land face-first into the other’s front.

Even though Quill outweighed the other by at least threefold, the force of the human crashing into him didn’t move the male an inch, his reinforced skeleton and genetically enhanced musculature more than enough to support a fumbling Terran. In fact, even with Rocket pulling relentlessly on the leash and forcing the other’s face into his crotch, the raccoon didn’t have to back up a step to regain his footing or counteract the mass of man that was now flush with his hips. And that gave him the time to wrap a length of the leash around his hand, which tugged the other closer while also angling him to Rocket’s groin. Peter’s nose trailed down the other’s stomach, fur tickling along his lips until a very different texture began to rub over them: not soft and fuzzy but hot, slick, and thick.

“And like I said, here’s your treat boy…every good pet deserves a nice big bone to drool over. So go on, get to it,” Rocket murmured huskily.

The situation was almost ironic considering what Peter was rubbing up against. The raccoon’s cock was a combination of his feral ancestry and the scientist’s efforts to make him more ‘civilized’: while it did contain that baculum, or penile bone, that kept the penis stiff during penetration, it was also enhanced, made thicker and longer in an effort to make it look more hominoid. Their attempts to make it _look_ more human absolutely failed, the raccoon’s prick looking like a beefed up version of his procyon brethren; its _feel_ on the other hand was right on point, with the added bonus of curves and a tapered length that no human could have.

And right now, that ‘bone’ was rubbing adamantly over Peter’s lips, smearing them with a thin layer of pre as he ground upwards, an obvious suggestion that it was time for the Terran to open up. With a slightly disappointed whine, Peter stared up to the smirking raccoon, big blue eyes giving that puppy-dog stare that usually worked so well on manipulating the other, but alas, it seemed that Rocket was set on his own agenda today. It looked like this was the treat Peter would be stuck with, so he might as well make the most out of a slightly disappointing situation. Besides, maybe if he did a good-enough job, his dream treat might come true later!

That thought sparked the Terran pet back to life, his ass lifting up into the air a bit before wagging slightly back and forth, the man unintentionally taking on the role of the dog he was playing while he snorted zealously over the raccoon’s meat, his hot breath washing over it before his tongue moved to do the same. As the coarse, slick muscle trailed over that wild cock, the raccoon shuddered and groaned out, his back arching and hips rising up so every inch of that throbbing, leaking length could introduce itself to his new pet’s tongue.

With one hand still pulling firmly on the leash, Rocket’s free hand moved to the top of Quill’s head, long digits entwining with the Terran’s golden locks before pushing firmly down on atop his head. Peter gladly acquiesced to the motion, lowering down a bit and letting his tongue trail and lap over the slick flesh before him. Rocket was nearly panting out as his grinding and humping began to grow more intense, his pace picking up until Peter had had enough pre rubbing into his flesh and decided the fluid had a better place to slather itself over.

Peter opened his lips and immediately sank down onto Rocket’s tapered tip, his tongue slipping over the flesh that invaded his mouth, making it slippery and slick enough so that entering and, subsequently, exiting grew easier by the second. It was already so good, thrusting into that hot mouth and feeling that tongue coat his hot flesh with even hotter saliva, hearing Quill moan out as additional shots of pre began to coat his tongue. Peter was seemingly quite appreciative of the salty-sweet liquid that was filling his mouth, the motions his tongue were making growing more enthused by the moment as he tried to coax more of it from the other. It was all Rocket could do to just not forget the leash and grab onto the other’s head so he could breed him properly…but the raccoon had other plans to carry out.

As Peter put those sweet lips and silver tongue to a much better use, Rocket slowly let the other’s hair fall out of his grip, instead grabbing onto one of the arms that was supporting the man and yanking it up; while it did cause the other to teeter off balance and slide further down the five inches the procyon was proudly packing, it was completely necessary to do for the next phase of Rocket’s plan. Wordlessly, the raccoon’s muzzle opened up to take in a couple of digits, his dexterous tongue moving to wrap around the fingers and coat every inch of them until they were slick with his saliva.

“Mmnn, you don’ know how long I’ve been thinkin’ about this moment boy. About you on your hands and knees, face buried on my dick and ass up in the air…ready, willin’, and waitin’ like an eager pup should be,” murmured Rocket after he pulled the fingers out from his mouth, sighing out as his hips became still. “I’ve been waitin’ so long to see someone like you do this for me…to be a pet, an _animal_ to the half-feral freak that can walk ‘n talk like a person.”

Peter’s suckling slowed at that point, and if his mouth weren’t so full at the moment, his lips would have tugged down into a tight-lipped frown upon hearing the raccoon talk like that. Since those lips _were_ preoccupied, however, the male resorted to just giving a muffled whine up to the other, to try and say something like ‘I don’t think you’re an animal’ or something like that. In response to the concern, Peter earned a tender pat to the cheek as well as a sharp thrust upwards, hips once again resuming their set rhythm humping forwards as he growled out.

“But that’s nothin’ you gotta worry about boy…all you have to focus on is pleasin’ master. Of takin’ his stiff cock wherever he wants it and obeyin’ him when he commands somethin’. Somethin’ like get those fingers I had my tongue on inside of you, **now** ,” Rocket grunted as he looked down at Quill. And after the man remained motionless after the demand (probably because Quill felt bad for him still or something stupid like that), Rocket quickly got him moving by jerking hard on the leash and letting his claws sink in to the Terran’s shoulder. The sensation of being yanked wherever another wanted while simultaneously feeling the hard scratches the raccoon left begin to rise up into puffy pink welts were an effective way to get Peter moving, and he quickly complied with the request..

As the stinging in his shoulders intensified, the male’s hand moved behind himself hastily, tracing lightly along the arch in his back until the still-slick fingers rested just above the cleft of his ass. Peter’s legs spread apart slowly, lowering his elevation while naturally spreading his cheeks apart so that just enough room was made for his fingers to slide down and teasingly rub over his hole. His own hips were now beginning to waggle back and forth before teasingly pushing forward, that pelvic sorcery working its magic on the raccoon above him as he drooled over the show he was getting.

“Flark Quill, that’s it boy…mnnph, get yourself ready for me!” exclaimed Rocket as his pace began to pick up a bit, his shaft barreling in and out of the other’s mouth as he waited impatiently for a different kind of magic start; the kind where he could watch fingers pull a vanishing act.

Quill needed no additional prompting, the male already knowing the price for acting too slow; slippery digits pushed firmly against his entrance, slowly easing his pucker open until a muffled gasp signaled the moment he finally forced himself open. Hips rolled forward and the man pressed his crotch hard into his sheets below, earning himself a bit of friction between flesh and cloth to help stimulate himself further. The digits behind him began to establish a set rhythm as he bobbed up and down on Rocket’s shaft, fingers spearing into himself and spreading out, loosening the clenching muscle as he obeyed his furry dominant.

The moans that were already vibrating along the raccoon’s prick began to intensify as the human’s fingers went to work, causing the raccoon’s spine to bend backwards in satisfaction and his toes to curl with pleasure. Rocket’s mind was racing at this point, thinking of all the different things they could incorporate into their play now that Peter was on board with the kink; maybe next time they could get the Terran a tail, or maybe Rocket could use one of those rubber bone toys to loosen Peter up or, hell, maybe as a treat the raccoon could even bend over for Peter, let the master see who the _real_ alpha was in the relationship. It was that constant parade of lewd thoughts combining with how the Terran had started to push down further on Rocket so that his lips were wrapped not only around the raccoon’s stiff rod, but his sheath as well, that pushed him over the edge.

In one sudden movement, Peter’s nose was no longer pushed into Rocket’s crotch, fresh air replacing the warm scent of musky fur and dense forests. Peter whined out quietly as his lips were painted with a healthy gush of pre, the male apparently very disappointed that the load provided to him wasn’t something with a bit more substance, but it became quite clear that Rocket wasn’t going to be feeding him anytime soon. No, the raccoon had other things in mind for the load Peter was coaxing out of him.

If this were an ideal situation, Rocket would have been completely in charge, in control of every last detail including the pace of their play time together or how excited either of the pair got. What he had not counted on, however, was how damn hot Quill was acting like a pup; his natural hyperactive nature and excitability transferred over perfectly to this role, and his eagerness to please and willingness to try new things had worked Rocket up so much that he couldn’t help but lose himself in the moment. The raccoon was quick to slide around Quill and slap at the other’s hand, eager to replace the digits there with his throbbing, spewing prick and turn the pup into his own personal bitch.

“Paws off ‘n on the bed boy, fuck I need inside,” Rocket growled out lowly, practically ripping out the two digits that were doing their best to prepare the Terran for him.

Quill was whining and whimpering desperately by this point, voice cracking into soft ‘Awwwrrrhhhs’ that not only echoed around the Guardian’s cabin, but appeared to amplify as they bounced off the metal walls. With his fingers out of himself and firmly grasping on to the covers below him, he felt empty, desperate for something to fill him once more; and from the sharp jabs of Rocket’s dick trying to find a yielding entrance, it took no time at all to obtain that fulfilling sensation once again, with the added bonus of extra reach and a curve that seemed made to seek out the human prostate.

The fuck Rocket was giving the other wasn’t neat and calm and pretty, with timed thrusts that had a set rhythm or controlled pace; it was fast, frantic, and sloppy, a coupling born of frenetic passion and frenzied lust. Furry hips slammed into bare ones while clawed digits dragged along Peter’s side, raising thin streaks of swelled-up pink flesh speckled with dots of crimson; and that rough treatment was definitely appreciated as proof by the man’s desperately loud whimpers and moans. Quill was panting out hotly now as he felt the full length of that slick, tapered cock dig into his prostate repeatedly, forcing his own prick to jump and drool out onto the bed below.

Yanking back hard on the leash, Rocket managed to curb those panting groans for a moment as he restricted the Terran’s airflow, turning the guttural growling the man was doing into breathy gasps and whines. And if that wasn’t enough to distill the air of a submissive into Peter, the rough hand stroking along the Terran’s cock hurriedly while Rocket growled out commandingly definitely were.

“Flark…flarkin’ gonna blow hard in ya boy, that what you want? Hole full of master’s seed? Go on Peter, whine ‘n whimper ‘n beg for it, howl out hard as you hump away into my hand. C’mon, blow boy! Lemme know how much ya love your treat!” Rocket purred out, his unsteady pace beginning to grow more erratic as the Terran clenched down on to him.

It was all too much for Quill: the stinging of his hip and shoulder; the sharp pressure forcing his neck back as he was railed from behind; the tip of raccoon’s thick cock assaulting his prostate. It was a wonder he lasted this long with all the teasing he had put up with so far, but it looked as if the words the smaller dominant were hissing out to Peter were the straw that broke the camel’s back. As the Terran pushed back in time with the raccoon’s thrusts, he paused for a moment and gasped as he felt that familiar throb began to well up in the base of his cock. Taking in stuttered breaths, the male tried to delay the inevitable, halting his hips from pumping as his toes splayed and curled.

Rocket could sense the change in the other, feel it in the way his pace had halted, hear it in the way his breath halted up time and time again. Any minute now and Peter would explode, all he needed was a nudge in the right direction. “Thassit…c’mon boy let it go! Cum boy, **cum**!”

Peter shuddered violently and howled out as a final pull of the leash snapped his head further back, the command all he needed to be pushed over the edge His body trembled and quaked as he let loose a torrent of seed into the other’s hand, painting the black with thick streaks of hot cum as he succumbed to his master’s orders.

Rocket hissed out violently as he felt the Terran’s walls clench and clamp down on him, the man doing his best to milk Rocket dry and, with one final thrust from the raccoon, accomplishing just that. It was Rocket’s turn to spasm now as he came hard into the other, thick spurts of searing seed gushing into him as the culmination of the nights efforts ended with a moan, a hiss, and a thud.

Together, the couple slumped down on the bed, Quill collapsing into an exhausted, sticky heap onto the covers as he huffed out, doing his best to regain his wits after being fucked stupid by his fellow dumbass boyfriend-thing. With the collar not forcing itself against his windpipe anymore and the raccoon most likely too weak to claw at him, the Terran forced out a few grunted words, his voice rough and gravelly from a combination of his raucous moaning and the band of leather that still clung to his throat. “T-that…shit Rocket I…damn man!”

Rocket gave a weak laugh as he lay against the other, much too lazy to enforce any discipline or keep the play up after that intense release. The afterglow was just too sweet and Quill’s stammered words just too perfect to punish. “Yeah, liked it that much huh? Well, glad to hear it Pete, and you can bet we’ll be doin’ it again.” A smirk spread over the raccoon’s muzzle as he leaned in to kiss the small of the Terran’s back, a purred chuckle punctuating his next words, “Won’t we boy?”

Peter twitched at the phrase, weakly turning his head to look over his shoulder at Rocket; there it was, that arched brow and cocky little smirk that Rocket had come to know and love. “Hell yeah!” Quill gasped out and wriggled his hips, his voice nearly cracking as he rushed out the next part, “When can we do it again? Soon? Cause I gotta return the favor ‘n rut you out too!”

Rocket couldn’t help but snort out and roll his eyes at that, just as he had done at the beginning of this surreal scent. It was classic Quill: eager, hyperactive, a one-track mind…all in all, the perfect pup. _Rocket’s_ perfect pup. Grinning at the thought, the raccoon just patted along the Terran’s thigh, sighing out contently, “We’ll see boy, we’ll see.”


End file.
